The Man in the Blue Scarf
by Wholockians-in-the-Tardis
Summary: A collection of short one shots showing the friends of Sherlock Holmes reflecting on his life and 'death'. Does contain spoilers, and hints of Johnlock. Begins with Molly Hooper.


I rub my eyes and take a seat at the far end of the lab, next to the window. I look out onto the dark, empty street and begin to realise how late it is. I should really be going home. I mean, Toby will be getting hungry, and I guess I should be getting some sleep before work tomorrow. I agreed to continue coming in to the morgue- I suppose they thought I was in need of some time off since I was so 'close' to him. But I wasn't really.

I only consented to coming in today because I knew that if I didn't, bad things would happen. Bad things where I sit at home and start thinking. And I've learnt that thinking is bad. It leads you round in circles, like a dog chasing its own tail, and you come to no conclusion. The pain just continues to go round and round until you start doing something. Something to distract yourself. So work is my distraction.

I suppose that's also why I didn't sleep last night. Not a wink. Most of the time you think you haven't slept for a night, but it turns out you did drift off at some point. But, I swear to you, I was awake from dusk till dawn. And how do I know this? Because I didn't even feel tired. I just lay there on my bed with its pink duvet, with little Toby curled up at my feet, and thought.

But now there's no more work to do, and I still don't feel tired. No more distractions, then. I'm going to have to start thinking again.

As I sit there, I think of a man in the blue scarf. The only man I've ever really loved. I guess I always knew my affection for him was unrequited, but two nights ago I felt a glimmer of hope that it might not be that way. However, that was the night I helped the man I loved to fake his own death.

Now the night is coming back to me. I was in this room, just turning to go home for the night, when he began telling me the things I'd always hoped he would. The man told me that he trusted me. And he told me that I have always counted. And he told me that he was not okay, and that I needed to help him.

And I did exactly as he told me.

I'm not going to lie and say that the worst thing is knowing that I'm the only person who can see for certain that he is alive, because it is not. I'm actually honoured that he chose me. But what is terrible, the thing that always comes back to me every time I think of him, is that I won't get to see the genius in the blue scarf for a long time. It could be a year, it could be two. But no matter how long it takes him to decide it's safe to come out from his hiding and face the people he loves, it will feel like an eternity to me. And that knowledge stings.

But I know that it is worse for the others. Mrs Hudson. Such a sweet lady- she doesn't deserve all of this. But then again, I reckon she can cope- after all, she did cope with all of his crazy antics when he was 'alive'. She'll pull through. And Greg. He's a strong man, but it must be awful being the only one who doesn't truly believe that the man was a fraud. Even when it was on the news and everyone in his squad believed it to be true, I don't think Greg had the heart, or mind, to believe that he was tricking them.

Despite this, it's John that I'm really worried about. No matter how often he said it, I didn't think for a second that he had no feelings for the detective. I mean, look at all the girlfriends who left him, purely because he was too busy helping the man. I daren't even think how he is feeling right now. I want nothing more than to tell him that it's all one big lie and that his flatmate is really just in hiding. But he can't know. None of them can.

I would go to John and try to help him to feel better, but I know that he will be in a state, especially so soon after the 'incident'.

I think of all the moments I saw them together, happy. I have to admit, there was a hint of jealousy within me when I saw them like that. I've never had much luck with men (I mean, one of my boyfriends turned out to be a psychotic mastermind!), but I always wished there was a chance with the genius. I knew my wishes would go to waste, but I couldn't help it. I loved him.

But John and his flatmate, there was definitely a relationship there. Whether that was love or just great friendship, I'm not sure, but I knew from the way the man looked at John that I could never get to those standards with him. I hope they had nice final moments together.

And then I think the happiest thought I have since he faked the suicide. I will see him again. And even if that is an eternity away, I will wait it out.

And I will be happy for Mrs Hudson and Greg. I will be happy for John, when he sees the man's smiling face for the first time in so long.

But most of all, I will be happy for Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
